Hot flashes

Xiao Jue looked down at him, his face still expressionless, but his eyes were as deep as a whirlpool. He rubbed Zhou Heng's lower lip hard with his thumb, so hard that it almost broke the skin.

"You've got some nerve." Xiao Jue's voice was low and calm, yet each word fell like an ice bead. "You dared to visit a brothel."

Zhou Heng felt a sharp pain from being pinched, his eyes brimming with tears, and he mumbled an explanation: "I...I just went to have some tea...and listen to...a piece of music..."

"Tea? Music?" Xiao Jue's lips curled into a cold, emotionless smile. "They've already ended up in bed together. If I had been a step slower..."

He paused, his tone suddenly turning cold, carrying a chilling, sinister quality, "Shouldn't everyone have 'children' by now, huh?"

Zhou Heng was terrified by his outrageous guess, shaking his head like a rattle: "No! Absolutely not! Don't talk nonsense! You're the only one in my heart! I just... I just... um!"

Before he could finish speaking, Xiao Jue abruptly lowered his head and kissed him. The kiss was devoid of any tenderness, filled with punitive biting and possessiveness, brimming with intense anger and an almost violent possessiveness, instantly robbing Zhou Heng of all ability to breathe and defend himself.

Lips and tongue were conquered, and the stench of blood filled the mouth.

After the kiss, Zhou Heng was almost suffocating; his lips were red, swollen, and stinging, and physiological tears streamed down his face.

Xiao Jue stepped back slightly, his fingertip brushing against the corner of his moist lips, his dark eyes fixed on the man's panicked eyes: "Is it because I haven't... satisfied you enough? Hmm? You still have the leisure... to think about 'women'?"

The chill in those words and the implication of some kind of danger sent a shiver down Zhou Heng's spine.

He shook his head frantically, his voice trembling: "I'm satisfied! Really satisfied! Extremely satisfied! I didn't think about it at all! Really! I swear!"

"Lying." Xiao Jue coldly uttered two words, giving him no further chance to explain.

He released his grip on Zhou Heng's chin, then grabbed the back of Zhou Heng's neck and dragged him toward the bed like a disobedient little animal.

"Xiao Jue! Ah Xiao! Husband! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Please let me explain... Ah!"

Zhou Heng struggled and begged for mercy in vain, but Xiao Jue ruthlessly slammed him onto the large bed.

In the blink of an eye, Xiao Jue had already pressed forward, his heavy body firmly pinning him down.

Those hands, usually so elegant and powerful when wielding a pen and sword, now carried an irresistible force. In a few swift movements, they tore off his brocade robe, which had been stained with the scent of cosmetics from the "Qunfang Pavilion," and casually tossed it off the bed.

The sound of tearing fabric was particularly jarring in the quiet room.

"No... Xiao Jue... calm down... ah!" Zhou Heng was so frightened that his voice cracked. He tried to push the person on top of him away with his hands and feet, but was easily subdued.

Xiao Jue didn't even bother to untie the complicated ties on his inner garment, and simply started tearing them off.

"It seems I need to make you 'remember' this well." Xiao Jue's voice rang close to his ear, deep and hoarse, carrying a burning aura of passion and anger, yet colder than ice. "Who is your 'husband'?"

For Zhou Heng, what followed was like falling into a nightmare with no end in sight, only a fierce storm.

Xiao Jue seemed to have completely shed his usual calm and self-possessed exterior, unleashing all his anger, lingering fear, and a kind of violent rage that had been provoked into this punitive affair.

He forced Zhou Heng to make more shameful promises, adopting various unspeakable postures. His usually deep and calm eyes were now frighteningly red, tightly locking onto the body beneath him that was trembling with fear and passion, as if he wanted to completely devour him from the inside out, even his soul, and brand him with his own unique mark.

At first, Zhou Heng could still cry and beg for mercy, but later his voice became hoarse and his strength was exhausted, leaving only broken sobs and physiological tears.

He tried to escape the overwhelming onslaught, his limbs going weak as he shrank towards the corner of the bed, only to be easily dragged back.

He tried to climb again, only to be pulled back again. The bed curtains swayed, the brocade quilt was in disarray, and he was like a fish forced out of the water, struggling and thrashing in vain in the eye of the storm, yet he could never escape the all-encompassing net.

It is unknown how long it took before the storm gradually subsided.

Zhou Heng felt as if all his bones and soul had been ripped out; he lay paralyzed in bed, too weak to even move his eyelids.

Xiao Jue lay on top of him, his heavy breathing gradually subsiding.

He sat up and looked at Zhou Heng's miserable yet alluring appearance, which had been thoroughly "dealt with." The terrifying crimson in his eyes slowly faded, returning to its usual deep color, but the gloomy anger and some deeper, almost uneasy emotion still lingered in his eyes.

He reached out, his fingertips somewhat rough, and gently wiped away the tears from Zhou Heng's eyes. The gesture carried a tenderness that followed, yet it inexplicably sent shivers down one's spine.

"From now on," Xiao Jue's voice was low and husky, carrying the languor of someone who had just made love, yet it brooked no argument, "you are not allowed to step out of the palace without my permission. And you are even less allowed to... associate with those shady characters."

Zhou Heng was so tired that he couldn't even lift his eyelids. He could only let out a muffled murmur in response.

He no longer has the strength to even get out of bed, let alone step out of the palace.

Xiao Jue seemed somewhat satisfied then, picked him up, and took him to clean him up.

The warm water soothed the aches and discomfort in his body. Zhou Heng leaned against him, feeling drowsy, but belatedly, a huge sense of grievance and fear welled up in his heart.

After cleaning him up and returning to the clean bed, Xiao Jue held him tightly in his arms, resting his chin on the top of his head and possessively wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Sleep now," Xiao Jue whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his hair, a kiss completely different from the violence he had just displayed.

Zhou Heng snuggled against him, found a more comfortable position, and almost instantly drifted into a deep sleep, still seemingly haunted by lingering fear.

Xiao Jue did not fall asleep immediately. By the faint moonlight filtering in from the window, he looked at the peaceful yet tear-stained sleeping face of the person in his arms, his fingertips unconsciously tracing his swollen lips and the dark circles under his eyes.

He tightened his arms, holding the man closer to his chest, as if he wanted to completely meld him into his very bones, never to be separated again.

The fate of those instigators was already foreshadowed in several orders quietly issued by the Jingbei Prince's Mansion the following day.